an Idyll. by Wilson Korges

Riding though the green of woods, parting the trees now, comes the Prince and a proudly liveried entourage of only two. The firs there are not packed tightly together, so the riding there is easy, somewhat exhilarating—and there is just enough foliage to get lost in; branches, so that one or two are sure to brush the cheek and leave it stinging lightly with life.
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“They’re laughing at me.” When she heard birdsong, grandmother insisted that they were mocking her, that the birds flew down from the trees to personally insult her. She took me shopping and I begged her let me look at the Lego at Woolworths. I committed to memory the sets I wanted for Christmas and went to find her. I looked everywhere but she wasn’t there, I cried to the shop assistant that 'I had lost my grandma.' She'd only snuck out for a fag, and when we were reunited she berated me for crying, but I suppose I loved her.

john, who used to work on my team,
once dragged me down from the trading room
into a liquor-flooded crevice to bid
on the chance to shatter our loneliness
on a cold Friday. his wife had left him several years before,
their child shouting through the noise as she clicked out
their life together with the closing of a front-door,
as if it were some party she'd mistakenly entered
& awkwardly tried to escape---his words